Saw "Dog Day Afternoon" last night, if you see what I mean. Gad! That Al Pacino was a fiery young man. Holding up that bank and becoming an anti-hero and everything.
Reminded me of an Italian bloke I used to fancy at school. One of the few Italians round our way who didn't own a Capri. He was obviously a snob, and shunned by the large local community.
Loads of Italians lived round our way, their dads being prisoners of war and that. And starting loads of nurseries and greenhouses and everything. No food shops though, or nice restuarants, the selfish gits!
But the damndest thing was: I remember the film being released late-ish 1975, and Al Pacino becoming a household name and very big star. This brought me pain. I was at college by this time, and deeply in love with a blonde boy on my course. He was really nice and everything.
When each girl had their birthday in our group, he would buy them a single from Discland, and a card. When it came to mine in early December, he was empty-handed.
"Didn't know what you would want, so..." And he shrugged his handsome shoulders.
I kept a dry eye until I got home (had to wait ages for a lift in those days), then sobbed and sobbed. Returning to college the following afternoon, broken up inside. A wounded woman. I had been 17 for less than 48 hours, and already I had experienced heartbreak. I knew then that this was a terrible and treacherous age.
I was shocked at how something so buried and painful could come to light like this. How any, albiet good, film could trigger something so brutal. I didn't even see it at the time, but Pacino's name was reverently whispered about, like he was some sort of demi-God.
Anyway, that treacherous git bought me a box of Matchmakers the following year, so the wounds sort of healed. And 37 years later, inexplicably, he's still my mate! And often turns up expecting a slap-up meal! The scrounging bloody git! Al Pacino would never do that - would he?
